Temporary Touches
by Soaking In The Reign
Summary: Clary has severe nerve damage and no longer has the sense of touch due to a terrible car accident. Although this is only transient her life is miserable. Until, that is, Jace comes along. Will he always be there to make things better? Or is he also temporary? *I have no idea if this medical condition is possible/real. Rating may change to M because of sexual content*
1. Preface

**Temporary Touches  
Preface (Re-write): Ripping Up The Past**

****Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments Series or any of its characters or ideas. All rights are reserved to Cassandra Clare. I do, however, own all my plots and ideas and any original characters I might add. Please do not copy, translate, edit, or etc. without my permission. Thank you****

The drawing that laid on the old twin bed was finally finished. It had been worked deliberately on for a week now and all the details and thoughts and emotions that were put into piece were placed perfectly among the page. The artist's shaking hand ran slowly across a child that was drawn. This child looked to be about six-maybe seven-years old. She was drawn in profile so you could only see about half of her face. Her curly light-colored hair was tossed over her shoulder and her head laid against a car window. She looked to be sleeping, but if you looked close enough, you could see the slight quirk of her lips that hinted at the beginnings of a smile.  
Although the girl seemed to be the centerpiece of the picture, there was another person in the car. The driver. This girl was much older than the last-probably around sixteen. Her hair was curly also and a bit darker. This child was well awake and for good reason too, not that it would have made much of a difference.  
The artist, and the second girl in the drawing, sighed. She was tempted to crumble the picture, as she had done with all the ones like it, but something held her back. She _had_ worked extremely hard on it and it was nearly perfect so why not keep it? But, then again, it would only bring back painful memories of the death of her sister. WWJD?  
No, not "What would Jesus do" but "What would Jonathan do". Or, as she would prefer, "What would _old_ Jonathan do" since he obviously isn't himself anymore. In fact, she had nicknamed the new Jonathan after her cold-hearted ex-boyfriend, Sebastian. She knew it was harsh considering Sebastian had gone to jail for domestic abuse, but she thought Jon deserved it.  
"Clary! Come on! We gotta go!" she heard Jon shout from downstairs. Clary heaved another sigh and glanced over the picture, trying to decide what to do with it. Clary watched as her hands picked it up and held it in front of her face. She placed both hands at the top and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to hear the satisfying rip. It never came though. She let one of her eyes open and take a peak before opening the other.  
"Clary! Now!"  
She snatched up the fallen picture and stuffed it in a drawer to deal with later. And it stayed there, undamaged.

**I am starting over with Temporary Touches because I have had a change of plans for it. I hope you liked this!  
Questions:  
Do you have any ideas? I would love to hear them!  
How was your day?**

**Please Review!**

**Love,  
Soaking In The Reign**


	2. Out of Hand

**Temporary Touches**

**Chapter One: Out of Hand**

Patience was never really Clary's thing. Especially when what she's waiting for is important. For example, when her brother, Jonathan, was about fifteen years old he had gotten home extremely late from one of his friend's houses. All night she had heard her father complaining to her mother how he was going to "beat his ass" once he was back. Her mother had reassured him that there was probably just some difficulties with the car or something, but that didn't ease Valentine's anger.

At around 2 A.M., Valentine's spine-tingling yells erupted throughout the house. It was the kind of yelling that scared you so much that you never wanted to disappoint him again. Unfortunately, Jonathan did not have the same feelings on this. In fact, he had a temper as terrible as his father's, and had screamed back. Sooner or later a loud bang sounded and then all was quiet. Clary didn't exactly know what was going on, but she knew something bad had happened.

Little thirteen year old Clary snuggled into the warmth of her blankets and stared wide-eyed out her open window. Outside a tree could be seen swishing its bare branches around in the wind. She also saw the side of a house, where her best friend, Simon, lived. It comforted her, slightly, that she knew she would see him the next day.

A breeze traveled into her room causing her to shiver. Clary moved to get up and close the window when she heard what sounded like smashing glass. Jumping back into bed and hiding under her covers, she forgot about the window. She hadn't slept the rest of the night.

A tremor rolled through Clary at the memory. She was very glad that her younger sister, four at the time, was at a friend's birthday sleepover. Clary sighed at the thought of her sister, but didn't think any further on the subject.

"Clarissa Morgenstern?"

The voice was small and timid, but sounded sweet enough. Clary looked over to the young girl that the voice belonged to. She had curly, brown hair with tanned skin. The woman had big brown eyes that seemed to twinkle slightly against the fluorescent lights. She was probably around Clary's age, although, no one would be able to tell since Clary looked like a child compared to her. The nurse must've been about 5'8" or 9" while Clary was 5'3". It seemed unbelievable. How tall she was, that is.

Clary got up from her chair and walked over to the girl.

"Hey, Maia," she smiled. The nurse grinned back at her and replied with a simple hello.

Clary was used to the routine that Maia and her went through every time she came here. First they'd walk to room number 13 and Maia would make her sit on the hospital bed after she pulled over a new sheet. Then she would check Clary's blood pressure, weight, height, and ask her a bunch of questions. After about fifteen minutes, Maia would bid her goodbyes and leave the room.

Left alone with her thoughts, Clary decided to look out the window. She always loved them, she had once dreamed to have a window seat in her room so she could read or draw next to her open window. Let herself feel the warmth and breezes in the comfort of her home, to see the beautiful trees, to hear the sounds of nature. To be alone, but still feel the warmth in her heart as if someone was there caressing her and having their gentle arms wrapped around her body. In reality, it would only be her pillow that she would've laid on instead of a loved one. She wouldn't have minded, she would be in her paradise, whether or not someone was with her. She gave up on that dream a long time ago, though.

Outside of the hospital window, Clary saw a few pink and white dogwoods and scattered flowers and bushes that she guessed was supposed to count as landscaping. The Emergency Center was across the road and it looked like someone was running out of the building to someone who was sat on a bench not far from the center.

The person on the bench was bent over, the long dark hair covering her face. The boy who jogged out, now had his arms wrapped around the girl. His head buried into her neck making his face also concealed. All of the happy colors around them seemed as if they were mocking the sad people. They seemed to have the same dark hair, Clary noticed. Maybe they were related?

Clary swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to cry even though she didn't know these people or what their story was. Before she could think of anything else, she heard the jiggling of the door knob.

She forced her eyes to pull away from the window and over to the door. Dr. Bane stood in the doorway smiling at her. She ordered her lips to draw themselves upwards at the corners. Question flittered across the doctor's eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

"Hello, Clary, how are you?" His voice seemed smooth and comforting. Clary liked that.

"Fine. How about you, Magnus?"

He strolled over to the table in the corner of the room and picked up some papers. He swiftly scanned them over and directed his eyes to Clary's. She always enjoyed staring into his yellowish-green cat eyes. They were so compelling that Clary had a hard time trying not to stare at them. He appeared to have an Asian orientation, but she couldn't tell which country he might've been from. Magnus was pretty tall, most likely taller than Maia, and he had a lean structure. He was hot. _Only if he was straight…_

"Good! By the way, we won't be doing exercises today," his array of shiny white teeth became present, making Clary also smile.

"Really, why?"

"Because I figured you needed a break and a little less money on your bill. Plus, you could easily practice with a friend."

Clary really appreciated all he did for her. He'd always been there since the accident. His foster dad had been her doctor originally and Magnus would come with him to see her everyday. He would preoccupy her with games and gossip which made her stay as pleasurable as it could be. As soon as Magnus became a doctor, she immediately knew that she wanted him to be hers. So she asked for him and a few months later her wish came true.

"Thanks Magnus. You're truly magnificent."

He laughed and said, "Tell me something I don't know."

The rest of the doctor's visit continued with small talk as Magnus did his work. Clary learned the he had a new boyfriend named, Alec. This Alec character seemed to be nice-and attractive-by the way Magnus was describing him. He asked her about her brother which she mostly kept quiet about, but said that all was fine. Even though it wasn't.

~*~Temporary Touches~*~

Clary knew Jon wouldn't be happy once she got home. It turned out, she was _too_ right.

"We are running out of money, Clarissa! You expect to magically get better, but open your eyes. You haven't made any progress for_ months_. Why should I keep paying for these appointments when _they aren't helping_?"

Jonathan slammed his hand on the wall in frustration. Clary flinched back just as the chandelier in the foyer shook making the glass on it clink together.

"Jon, I am getting better, though. Maybe not as fast as I'd like, but still. I can't just give up now, I've tried so hard to get where I'm at now," Clary said, calmly. She didn't want to yell and get Jon roweled up.

Her brother rolled his eyes and laughed humorlessly. "Clary, I want you to get better, I really do, but let's face it, you're going to be like this _forever_."

Something in Clary snapped. She didn't know if it was because of what he said or if it was because he had said it _so many times_.

Her hands balled up into fists and her face turned so red that it could be mistaken for her hair. Without knowing exactly what she was saying, she began spewing words and her brother. She didn't care if anyone heard her. She didn't care if anyone called the police, even. And she most _certainly_ didn't care about Jonathan's feelings. He never seemed to care about hers so why should she?

This made her think back to their first fight after the accident.

It must have been about four years ago (a year after the accident) and Clary had been noticing how distant Jon had been getting. So she confronted him after work.

Clary stirred the spaghetti in her pot one last time before turning to look at him. He had his head down, looking at the kitchen table. His white-blonde hair had fallen in his eyes. His hand clutched his beer a bit too tight.

Clary walked over and ran her hand through his hair. She longed to feel the silkiness of it, but she realized that she probably never would again.

She sighed sadly, "What's wrong?"

Jon looked up. His black eyes had become so cold that they lost their soothing caress. They looked so sad that Clary wanted to cry. But they quickly hardened.

"What are you talking about," he had snapped.

Clary's eyebrows scrunched together.

"That. You've been so… far away lately. What's going on?"

He popped up from his seat and started walking towards the foyer. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.

"Don't shut me out, Jonathan," Clary warned and grabbed his arm.

He spun his head around to face her. And searched her eyes for a few moments. She didn't know what he was looking for so she just let him do what he had to.

Apparently it didn't work. His face turned into a scowl.

"Let me go," he spat. He yanked his arm away and walked away.

"Don't walk away from me, Jonathan!"

He stopped in his tracks, "What?"

Clary swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Don't walk away," she muttered.

He glared. "Watch me."

He turned and walked away. That small fight was the start of many large ones.

As she came back to the present day, her yelling was cut off by a clapping sound. She looked at her brother. The anger left his eyes and shock overtook them. Clary and Jon just stared at each other in absolute surprise.

Jon snapped out of it and walked out of the house, the door slamming behind him.

Clary slowly raised her hand to touch her cheek.

Jonathan had slapped her.

And to her dismay, she hadn't felt a thing.

~*~Temporary Touches~*~

**I'm so sorry this took so long to get on here. I promise I will be writing once or twice a week for this story and **_**Goodbye to Romance**_** (Which I encourage you to check out because I'm super excited about it). **

**If I ever need to disappear for as long as I did, I promise to tell you guys and the reason why. Hopefully I won't need to, though. **

***Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments Series or any of its characters or ideas. All rights are reserved to Cassandra Clare. I do, however, own all my plots and ideas and any original characters I might add. Please do not copy, translate, edit, or etc. without my permission.** Thank you for **_**not**_** plagiarizing.*****

"**Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to soak in the reign." **

**My temporary goodbyes,**

**Soaking In The Reign **


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